


Shameless

by MyChemicalRachel



Series: Breathless [2]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Consent is Sexy, Frank used to be Gerard's teacher but not anymore, Frerard, Kid Fic, M/M, Sequel, Sexual Content, You Leave Me Breathless
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 05:09:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4209159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyChemicalRachel/pseuds/MyChemicalRachel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Sequel to You Leave Me Breathless!]<br/>"What are you saying, Frank?" Gerard looks at me with a pained expression. His brow is furrowed and I want nothing more than to reach out and smooth the crease between his eyes, make the frown disappear and pull him closer to me.<br/>But I swallow down those instincts and settle with a noncommittal shrug. "I'm just saying that I think we need space."<br/>Gerard takes a step back, then another, moving so the kitchen table is between us. "Is that enough space? If not, I can go to the living room."<br/>I shake my head slowly. "No, Gerard," I sigh. "That's... not really what I mean."<br/>Gerard falls silent, no words exchanged between us for a long time before the frown returns. He blinks a few times and then says, "Oh... Shit."<br/>And there it is, the entirety of our relationship summed up perfectly in the two simple words; Oh shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

...One…

“Would you stop wiggling?” My own voice is hushed in the silence of the room. It’s dark. The dim light from the streets outside allows me to see the shape of the body beneath mine, but nothing is completely visible. It’s just an obscure form, lines and curves that I would know even with my eyes closed. I trail my hand down Gerard’s side. I feel goosebumps arise under my fingertips and he shivers, letting loose another moan. I lean down, my lips capturing his, the keening noise being swallowed by myself before it can really escape. Then I rest my forehead against his. “Shush,” I command. “Don’t make me get the tie.” I smirk, imagining already the way Gerard looks with one of my neckties pulled taut across his lips, stifling whatever sounds he can’t control while I do whatever I want to him. Bending completely to my every will. It wouldn’t be the first time we’d used the bound-and-gagged method to keep him quiet enough as to not wake the twins.

I see the movement in the glowing light when Gerard swallows hard and nods. “Fuck, Frankie.” This time, it’s only a pleading breath. The sound of it sends a shockwave through me, an electrifying string of pleasure and desperation. Necessity and desire bleed into one mystifying emotion; I need him. Now. I lean down, kissing Gerard again. I feel his hands as they wrap around my neck, my own settling on his parted thighs. I stroke down his leg a few times, wanting again to feel the sparks of intensity that ignite between us.

Gerard groans again as his hips buck up. I feel him against me, urgent and ready, undeniably hard rutting against my lower stomach. I gasp, reaching a hand between us, first wrapping around Gerard’s member and stroking only twice before letting my fingers slide lower. His legs instantly twist around my waist, using the leverage to lift himself off the bed a bit and give me better access. He begins squirming again when my hand moves across his butt. “Stop. Fucking. Wiggling.”

Gerard heaves a sigh and I think I see him glare at me in the darkness. “Then stop teasing me already and put your dick in my ass.”

I quirk an eyebrow at his forwardness and push against his entrance with one finger. It slips in easily up to the second knuckle and I feel chills racking Gerard’s body. He groans and moves against my hand. His hands shift, loosening on my neck and moving to brace them against my shoulders. Nails dig into my shoulder blades, but I don’t mind the stinging. After a moment, I add another finger, then a third. Crooking them, brushing just to the left, and in an instant Gerard is trembling. He’s a mess already. In the dim light, I can see his head is back, eyes closed tightly as he focuses on remaining mostly silent. His black hair is matted to his forehead and his lips are parted, a delicious moan escaping past them.

I lean down, hovering above Gerard. Letting my lips attach to his collarbone, I spread small kisses around the area. I spend a few more moments moving my slick fingers about, easily gliding them around to find and tease Gerard’s prostate. Soon enough, he’s panting, gasping, and shivering. I allow myself to lean back enough to look at him. It surprises me a little to find his hazel eyes are already fixated on me. They’re half-lidded and he looks sort of love drunk, lust filled. He bites down on his lip and one corner of his mouth quirks up in a crooked smile. And I can’t take it any longer. I pull my fingers free, absently wiping the excess lube and I’m sure other disgusting particles of grossness on the sheet.

I fumble for only a moment with the bottle of lubricant, pulling it open and squeezing more into the palm of my hand. Slicking myself up, I take one last look at Gerard. He’s watching me still with that same contented look, taking in my every action and movement. He reaches out with one hand, twisting it in my hair and pulling my lips back to his. I sink into the mess of blankets with him, once again befuddled by how this amazing man ended up with me.

…

I wake up the next morning feeling hungover. A dull pounding assaults my head and the room almost spins with the mixture of exhaustion and euphoria. I still feel the lingering touch of Gerard, like a physical prick on my skin. The taste of his tongue settles on my own.

Rolling over, I reach out blindly for the man that should be occupying the other side of the bed. When I grasp nothing more than cold sheets, I open my eyes. The sight before me reaffirms what I didn’t feel; Gerard is gone.

I sigh, sitting up. Running a hand through my hair, I glance at the alarm clock. The red numbers tell me it’s just past nine in the morning. The bright light streaming in the window across the room confirms this. With a groan, I decide I should probably get up and find the rest of my family.

I pull on a pair of boxers and flannel pajama pants, then head downstairs. As I descend the stairs, I hear the sound of Scooby Doo playing on low volume. I follow the noise to the living room to find Cherry and Lily seated on the carpet in front of the television, each one with a half-empty bowl of cereal in their laps. Between them is Gerard. He’s dressed much like myself, though it looks like he had enough decency to shower first, and in his hands is clasped a bowl of milk. From the looks of it, he stole the last bit of the Cocoa Puffs. That bastard. Everyone’s focus in on the television.

Coming up behind Gerard, I lean down to give him a kiss. He looks up at me and smiles. “Morning.”

I return the greeting, brushing both girls on the head as I pass. They seem too enthralled by Scooby’s mad problem solving skills to notice my existence. However, Gerard stands and slips past them, following me into the kitchen. As I pour myself a mug of coffee, he places his bowl in the sink and then hops up onto the counter next to the coffee pot. His legs swing in the air next to me while I sip at the drink.

“Mikey called this morning,” Gerard informs me. “He was asking what we have planned for the girls’ birthday.”

I glance up at him and my head involuntarily tilts to the side. “Their birthday isn’t for another two months.”

Gerard nods. “Yeah, I know. But you know how Mikey is. He misses them, and he wants to make sure he can take the time off classes to come see them.” He lowers his voice and leans closer, glancing at the doorway into the living room. “Plus, I think he’s going to get them the motorized barbie car they’ve been asking for, and you know he wants to see their faces when they get that.”

I groan and let my head fall back. “No fucking way,” I contend. “Those things are like three hundred dollars.”

This time, Gerard shrugs uselessly. “I told him that, he doesn’t care.” He hops down from the counter, stealing a drink of my coffee before kissing me. He tastes like cigarettes and caffeine and something that’s distinctly Gerard. “I’ve got to get ready for class. I’ve got a lecture until noon. I’ll stop by the store and get some groceries after that and be home by two. Oh, and don’t forget the twins have a playdate with Leslie and Jacob at eleven at the Deveraux’s house. You should probably call Mikey and figure something out for the birthday party, otherwise he will never leave us alone.”

I nod along with his words and smile when he’s finished, kissing him again quickly. “What would I ever do without you?” I wonder.

Gerard smirks. “Jerk off a lot.”

I laugh and nudge him toward the stairs. “Go get dressed or I will defile you on the table again.”

“Daddy?” I look to the doorway where Cherry stands in her green Ninja Turtles pajamas. Her brown hair is a messy halo around her head, sticking up in various directions, and she watches me with a frown. “What does defile mean?”

My eyes widen and I glance to Gerard for help, but he just looks like he’s trying not to laugh. “Umm… It’s a grown-up word for hugging,” I lie. Cherry doesn’t look convinced, still watching me with narrowed hazel eyes. Eyes that match my own. “But it’s a grown-up word,” I repeat. “So you can’t say it.”

Then Cherry looks offended. “I’m almost eight,” She retorts defiantly. “I’m not a kid.”

“And you’re not a grown-up yet,” I reply. “You’re missing Scooby Doo.” I gesture with one hand to the direction of the living room and watch as she retreats to the cartoons. When she’s gone, I sigh heavily and glare at Gerard. He’s laughing hysterically now, trying to keep his giggles quiet enough to not be heard in the next room.

“I hate you,” I grumble.

Gerard’s laughter slowly dies down and he comes forward. He wraps his arms around my waist and closes the gap between us, kissing me slowly. When his lips move from mine, he whispers, “I will definitely let you defile me on the kitchen table. Just not when the kids are home.” He grins and before I have a chance to reply, he’s strutting from the room, leaving me to my own devices. I sigh, grabbing my coffee and pouring myself a bowl of cereal before joining the girls in front of the TV for our usual Saturday morning routine.

**[A/N: This is the sequel to You Leave Me Breathless, in case you didn’t read the summary. It has officially begun. I was not going to write this, but so many people were asking and I kind of wanted a sequel myself, and now here it is. Not sure exactly what’s going to happen, but I’m gonna wing it and hope it turns out as good as the first.**

**Also, are you guys frickin’ happy? You finally got your top Frank. You guys are persistent. I still prefer top Gerard myself…**

**Anyways, are you excited for this? Because I’m pretty frickin’ excited for this.**

**Fucking love you. xoRachel]**


	2. ...Two...

“Trade, Gee.” I glance across the kitchen to see Gerard’s canvas in place before him, taking up his half of the table. Seated across from him, Cherry and Lily are set up with their own homework. I smirk, watching as Lily pushes her math toward Gerard, a frown on her lips. “Trade,” She repeats.

Gerard looks up from his drawing-- A collection of Johnny Depp characters playing poker-- and frowns right back, looking kind of amused. “Lily, I am not trading homework with you.”

“How come your homework is fun?” Lily demands.

“Because,” Gerard replies easily. “I finished all of my boring homework. And once you finish all of your boring homework, you can do fun homework, too.”

Lily sighs dramatically and sets back to her math, glancing over Cherry’s shoulder.

I come to stand behind Gerard. I brush some of his hair back-- It reaches to almost his shoulders. I’ve been telling him for two weeks that he should get it cut, and he keeps reassuring me he’ll do it eventually, but I kind of like it long. I look between Cherry and Lily. “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes,” I tell them. “Can you go put your homework in your bookbags and then wash your hands?”

The girls, seeming grateful to take a break from their work, collect their sheets of paper and pencils and scurry out of the room. I take an empty seat across from Gerard, who sets his own colored pencil down and looks up. “Mikey called again to ask about the birthday party,” I tell him and then relay what I told his brother. “We’ve got it set for December third, a Sunday so you and Mikey won’t have classes. I told him he could come out that Saturday night and stay.”

Gerard nods his approval and then silence falls for a moment while I figure out how to word my next statement. After a second, I blurt out, “Jamia called today.”

I can see the various emotions as they play across Gerard’s face. Though he would never admit it, I can tell it’s a constant fear he has that I’ll leave him for Jamia. I never would, as I’ve told him before, but there’s something in him that refuses to believe me. I think it’s the fact that he’s not the girls’ parent. He’s taken on the role wholeheartedly, giving them more parental guidance than my ex-wife ever did, but he knows that he’s not their father, not really. Not biologically or legally.

Gerard tries to compose himself, his spine rigid and straight. Still, he aims to make his voice sound nonchalant. “What did she say?”

“She wanted to tell me she got a new job,” I admit. “And a boyfriend. She asked how the girls were doing and if she could talk to them, but they were at the Deveraux’s. I don’t think they want to hear from her anyway.”

Gerard scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I don’t blame them. She hasn’t seen them in almost two years. Why does she care about them now?”

I hesitate, tapping a few fingers on the tabletop. “She said she wants to see them.”

“She has no right to see them,” Gerard insists. He leans forward, grabbing my hand to stop my tapping. He twists his fingers through mine and watches me with a pleading gaze. “She lost custody. Cherry and Lily are your kids-- No matter what the fucking birth certificates say, she is not their mom. She never was and you know that. She treated them like baggage, like belongings Like they were burdens.” He goes quiet for a moment, biting down on his lip. “They despised her, Frank. You know that. What makes her think they even want to see her?”

I shrug helplessly because I know he’s right, but I also know what could happen if I deny her the right to see her own children. “I’m scared,” I admit softly. “If I tell her no, I’m afraid she’s going to demand custody again. And with a steady income, she could get it. If she gains any grain of custody, she can demand that we move back to New Jersey. If she has even partial custody, she can deny my right to move out of state with the kids. Did you know that?”

Gerard pales, telling me the answer; No, he didn’t know that. He chews on his lip a little longer. “They can fight it, right? The twins? They’re competent enough to choose a parent now. They can choose who they go to.”

I shake my head sadly. “Not until they’re twelve. Until they’re twelve, they don’t have a say in who they stay with.”

“That’s bullshit!” Gerard exclaims. He sighs heavily. I feel his fingers tense around my own. We’re both silent for a time before his hazel gaze meets mine. “So what do we do?”

It reassures me, if only a bit, when he says ‘we.’ I’m not alone in this. Before, when Jamia first started requesting full custody, I made the mistake of breaking up with Gerard. At the time, I thought I was protecting him. He was so young and naive, so full of life and I felt like I was dragging him down. But now, I couldn’t imagine doing this without him. He loves the twins and he doesn’t want to lose them. If I’m fighting Jamia, I know that Gerard will be right there beside me.

Still, I have no fucking idea what we’re going to do. I shrug, sighing. “I think we should ask the kids. If they want to see Jamia, we should let them.”

Gerard doesn’t look pleased by my answer, but he nods regardless. “Okay,” He agrees.

I lean across the table to kiss him softly, but it only lasts a second before I hear, “Ewww, gross!” from the doorway. I chuckle, detaching myself from Gerard to see Cherry and Lily a few feet away, giggling and covering each others eyes.

Gerard laughs too and stands up. Grabbing his canvas and pencils from the table, he disappears from the room, returning a minute later with empty hands. When we sit down to eat, I watch as the twins attack their plates. Gerard’s and my own stay untouched for a long moment as we glance at each other, communicating with only facial expressions.

“So…” I say after a few minutes of silence. “Gee and I have something to ask you guys.”

Cherry and Lily both look up. Lily wipes her mouth on her sleeve, glancing between Gerard and I. “Are you guys getting married?” She asks.

I laugh, about to reply, when Cherry rolls her eyes and interrupts. “No, dummy. Jacob said they can’t get married since they’re both daddies.”

I point a finger at Cherry. “Don’t call names.” She frowns, but apologizes to her sister anyway. “First of all, Jacob is wrong. We can get married. But no, that’s not what we want to ask.” The twins stay silent, watching me with expectant eyes. “Your mom called earlier today,” I inform them. “You two haven’t seen her in awhile and she wants to see you.”

Cherry’s previous frown deepens. Her hazel eyes narrow. She thinks about it for a total of two second before shaking her head. “I don’t want to see her.”

I glance over at Gerard, who looks kind of pleased with Cherry’s blatancy. “Are you sure?” I wonder. “I know you didn’t like living with her, but you can still see her. She’s still your Mommy.”

“No,” Cherry says more defiantly this time. “She’s not my mommy. Gee is my mommy.” She leans back in her chair, crossing her arms.

Instead of pressing the issue further, I turn to Lily. “What about you?” I ask. “Do you want to see her?”

Lily looks torn. She glances at Cherry, then to Gerard, back to Cherry, and finally her eyes land on me. She opens her mouth a little, but nothing comes out. Eventually, she closes her mouth and settles with a small nod.

“No!” Cherry exclaims. She glares at her sister. “She’s not our mom, Lily. Gee is our mom.”

“Cherry,” Gerard reaches across the table to find Cherry’s hand. She reluctantly looks over at him, the frown still in place. “Sweetie, I don’t want you to see her either. I know you’re mad at her and I understand because I am, too. She was mean, she didn’t spend time with you, she yelled a lot. But I promise you, you’re not going back to live with her. Okay? I won’t let that happen. She just wants to see you for a little bit, and Daddy and I will be there the whole time.”

I watch as Cherry’s frown disappears and she holds eye contact with Gerard for a long time. Eventually, she says, “Promise?”

Gerard holds out his pinky. “Pinky promise.”

When Cherry goes back to eating, Gerard glances over at me. I can tell from the look on his face that he knows as well as I do that there’s no way we can guarantee that. As long as Jamia is pressing for rights to see the kids, there is no way Gerard and I can be completely sure they won’t be taken from me again. But I can also tell that he’s willing to do anything in his power to keep his promise to Cherry.


	3. ...Three...

My left arm was asleep. Most of my ass was hanging off the bed. There was a slight pain in my stomach where Lily’s elbow was currently jabbing. I sigh softly and try to push her over to the center of the bed, but she simply grumbles sleepily and I end up getting kneed in the crotch. After a moment, she grumbles again and nuzzles her face into my chest. I glance across the bed to see Gerard and Cherry have taken up practically the same position on the other side. Gerard brushes a few fingers through her hair and I can only barely hear the soft sound of his humming. He catches my eye, a tired smile falling in place on his lips.

At around two in the morning, Cherry and Lily had both scuffled into the bedroom Gerard and I shared. They each had a teddy bear clasped tightly in their grasp when they shook us awake.

“Lily is sick,” Cherry stated. She rubbed a fisted hand across her eyes and yawned. I looked behind her to see my other daughter looking pale. Her hair was a mess of tangles as it fell in waves and knots to the middle of her back, her dark eyes rimmed with red. She’d been crying. I let Lily climb into bed with us, noticing that Gerard was awake and looking concerned.

“What kind of sick?” He wondered, holding back a yawn until the question was out of his mouth. “Like _blagh_ kinda sick, or sniffly kinda sick?”

Cherry climbed over top of Gerard to reach the center of the bed, between her sister and Gerard, and then laid down. “She threw up on the floor,” She replied.

Gerard and I exchanged a look. With Lily already curling into a ball at my side, Gerard pushed the blankets aside and stood up. “I got it.”

I gave him a pitying frown. “Thank you.”

He simply shook his head and gave Lily a kiss on the head before disappearing into the other room to clean up the mess she had made.

When he returned, Cherry had mostly claimed his half of the bed as her own, mouth hanging open and snoring slightly, while Lily tried her best to shove me off the bed in her unconscious state.

Now, with the four of us crammed not-so-comfortably on the bed, I smile at Gerard. I didn’t dare say anything, afraid to wake the girls, but reach a hand across their sleeping bodies to find Gerard’s. His fingers twist with mine, the pad of his thumb beginning to rub small circles across my knuckles. I close my eyes and hear him begin humming again, this time vaguely recognizing the tune as something Pink Floyd, and fall asleep instantly.

It feels like only minutes later that the alarm to my right is buzzing obnoxiously. I feel an overwhelming hatred for the mechanical object. I want to punt it across the room and then go back into a very deep sleep, but remember that it’s going off for a reason; It’s Monday and I have to go to work.

After a long suffering sigh, I roll over and hit the button to turn it off. The girls are squirming and when I open my eyes, I see only the top of Gerard’s head peeking out from beneath a tangle of blankets.

Pulling myself up, I stand and move to the other side of the bed. “Wakey wakey, motherfucker,” I mutter and unravel Gerard’s cocoon of covers. He groans and tries to grab them back, but I keep tugging and eventually he rolls over, narrowing his hazel eyes at me. Kissing him quickly, I toss the blankets onto the twins instead. “Morning. Who’s turn is it to shower?”

Gerard thinks about it for a second and then raises a finger to his own chest. “Mine. I had twin duty Friday.”

I nod, stepping back so he could climb out of bed. He trudges past me to the bathroom while I take his place. I shake Cherry’s shoulder first, then Lily’s. “Come on, guys. Time to wake up. We gotta get ready for school.”

A lot of coaxing and a few “I don’t wanna go to school, Daddy”’s later, I have managed to get the twins out of bed and to their own room. I leave them alone to get dressed, heading downstairs to start the coffee pot. Just as I’m pouring two bowls of cereal, the girls scurry into the room. They take their respective seats, both now appropriately clothed for school, backpacks in tow.

While they eat, I check their bookbags to make sure their homework is done and they have everything they need. Just as their finishing up, Gerard comes down the stairs. His hair is wet, pushed back away from his face, and he’s wearing a Doors T-shirt I’m pretty sure is my own. He leans his portfolio against the wall and I push a mug of coffee toward him.

Early into living together, we realized that getting both the twins and ourselves ready every morning at the same time can be hectic. So we started the system; Rotating days, one of us would feed the girls and get their backpacks together while the other showered, and then while the second showered, the first would make sure the twins brushed their teeth and hair and got their shoes on. It worked for us. So when I come back downstairs after showering and clothing myself, I’m not surprised to find Lily sitting cross-legged in front of Gerard. He finishes her braid, twisting around the hair tie at the end, and then she jumps up and Cherry takes her place.

When we’re all ready to go, checking and re-checking that we have everything, we all head for the driveway. The twins give Gerard a hug and climb into my car, buckling themselves into the back. He pulls me in for a chaste kiss, saying, “Have fun at work.”

I smile, with a returned, “Have fun at school. You can pick up the kids from school at three, right?”

Gerard nods. “I’ve got it covered.” He gives me a thumbs up and then waves to the twins. “Love you guys!”

I watch as he dives into his own car and pulls out of the driveway, then I shift into reverse and head down the road, too. I drop the twins off at their elementary a few minutes early, but end up stuck in typical New York traffic on the way to the high school. Still, I manage to wander into the building about two minutes before the bell rings, making it to my classroom just in time for the students to start shuffling through the halls. I take a seat behind my desk, straightening a few scattered papers and bracing myself for another long day.

**[A/N: This was a pretty pointless chapter, but you got some cute kid fluff and domestic crap. Enjoy the fluff while it lasts because in a matter of chapters I am going to rip your heart out and fuck with your feels :)**

**Fucking love you. xoRachel]**


	4. Chapter 4

As I drop my keys onto the counter, the sound of giggles erupts from somewhere above me. Running a hand through my hair, I shrug off my jacket and hang it over a kitchen chair next to where the twins’ own jackets lie crumpled on the table. Their backpacks are strewn haphazardly across the tile floor. With a sigh, I pick them up and place them in a less precarious position in the corner, then make my way upstairs. After kicking my shoes off in my bedroom, I follow the sound of laughter to the girls’ room down the hall.

Gerard is sitting cross-legged between the twins, fighting to get a dress on a Ken doll that Cherry has handed him. He’s failing horribly, as the pink plasticy fabric keeps opening in the back where the Velcro won’t hold across the broad torso of the male doll. Eventually Gerard shakes his head, releasing a heavy sigh and handing it back. “I don’t think it’s going to fit,” He tells Cherry.

Sighing as well, Cherry frowns. “Will the heels fit?”

Gerard chuckles and shakes his head again. “Don’t think so, but you can try.”

“Gee,” Lily nudges Gerard and holds out her own Anna doll-- The one that Gerard gave her a few years ago. I’m surprised it’s held up so long since most of their toys would have fallen apart by now, but Lily cherishes it.

Gerard gently pushes the doll back into Lily’s hands. “You’ve gotta use your words, Lil. We’ve talked about this, right? You need to use your words and ask. You can’t just hand people stuff and assume they know what you want.”

Lily nods determinedly and holds up the Anna again. “Gee, can you help me brush her hair?” She pauses for a second, then adds, “Please?”

Gerard smiles. “That’s better.” He accepts the doll and starts running a tiny plastic Barbie sized comb through the knotted hair.

Smiling softly, I push the door open farther to announce my presence. Everyone looks up at once. “Hi, Daddy!” Cherry beams while Lily waves at me.

Gerard offers a tired, “Hey,” while running a hand through his hair.

“Daddy,” Cherry jumps up from where she was tucking two Ken dolls into bed together, the movement nearly knocking the little family out of their Barbie house. She doesn’t seem to care. “Can we go outside and ride bikes?”

It’s just past four-- The mid-October air is cool, but the sun hanging like a glowing orange ball in the sky warms it a bit. I nod. “Yeah, but just around the block, okay? And come back inside if it starts to get cold or dark.”

Lily scrambles to her feet and the small children race out the room. I hear the front door slam shut a few moments later. Gerard pushes himself to his feet, abandoning the doll on the floor, and comes to stand before me. He kisses me once, just a chaste “welcome home” kind of kiss. “How was work?” He wonders.

I shrug and take his hand, leading him down the stairs. “I teach seventeen year olds for a living,” I state. “How do you think it was?”

Gerard chuckles. “I was a good kid when I was seventeen,” He argues. “Not all of them are bad.”

I can’t disagree, aside from the fact that Gerard wasn’t exactly a “kid” when he was seventeen. He was seventeen when we met. He was seventeen when we hooked up. He wasn’t my student until afterwards, but that didn’t stop us. He was seventeen when we fell in love. Now, nearly four years later, I can’t say that he’s changed much. He’s still the same guy-- He was always mature and sensitive, but at the same time funny and youthful. It doesn’t seem like the age difference matters at all.

Gerard groans before falling onto the couch, pulling me down with him. I grab the remote and turn on the television, finding some rerun of Supernatural. I curl against Gerard’s side, but he fidgets for a long moment, shifting so we’re both lying down. I’m mostly on top of him, my head resting on his chest. I can hear his heart thrumming against his ribs and it sends a peaceful feeling through me. I lace my fingers through Gerard’s and lean up a bit to kiss him. He hums contentedly, smiling against my lips. The kisses are slow and lazy, and suddenly I feel the weight of exhaustion from last night’s lack of sleep when the girls had taken over our bed. I let my head fall back onto Gerard’s chest and turn my eyes to the TV.

...

I wake up some time later to someone poking my cheek. “Daddy,” Someone says, and I realize instantly that it’s definitely not Gerard. “Daddy, wake up. Gee?” I groan and bring a hand up to rub my eyes. Gerard shifts beneath me. I recall hazily what happened-- Watching Supernatural on the sofa. We must have fallen asleep.

I open my eyes to find the room is darker than before. Beyond the drawn curtains, the sky is a mix of blue and pink. The sun is setting over the distant horizon. I sit up, allowing Gerard to do the same. I see the time on the DVD player flashing a constant 7:02 PM.

“Oh, crap.” I look at the girls for the first time, standing expectantly before us. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep, certainly not for so long. I glance at Gerard. “Dinner. Can you order pizza while I help the girls with homework?”

Gerard nods, standing and grabbing the phone off the receiver. “Cheese or veggie?”

“Cheese,” The twins reply at once. Gerard gives them a thumbs up before wandering into the kitchen to retrieve the number off the fridge. I hear his voice filtering in softly and turn to the kids. “Your bags are in at the table,” I inform them. “Can you get your homework out while I grab something?”

With barely a nod, they scurry off toward the kitchen, too. I head upstairs first, finding my satchel in the bedroom. If the twins are working on homework, I might as well get some grading done. I set up across from them at the kitchen table, each of us spreading out our respective papers. A few minutes later, Gerard joins us with an Art History textbook and a journal. He offers me a crooked smile before setting to work on his own homework.

It’s nearing half past eight when homework has been half-assedly finished and pizza has been sufficiently scarfed. I’m tossing the emptied box onto the overflowing trash can when the phone rings. Glancing at the caller ID, the words “J. Nestor” have my heart sinking once again. I look back to Gerard and then gesture to the phone.

“Can you get their bathwater ready?” I ask, and then force a stern look onto the girls. “Thirty minutes until bed. Don’t play around. Bathe, brush your teeth, and I will be up in twenty minutes to tuck you in.”

I grab the phone-- I almost let the machine pick up, but I figure that Jamia will know we’re home at this time and there’s really no avoiding it since she’ll just call back. I force my voice to remain mostly neutral when I grumble, “Hello?”

“Frank,” Jamia says. I don’t like the way her voice forms my name, sounding bored and condescending. “I want to speak with the kids. They’re home, right?”

“You actually just missed them,” I inform her. “They’re taking a bath.”

“Can they call me when they’re finished?” My ex-wife wonders.

I shake my head, well aware she can’t see the gesture. “Probably not tonight. They’re tired and it’s almost their bedtime.”

I can practically hear Jamia narrowing her eyes. “What about tomorrow?”

“There’s a parent-teacher conference at their school,” I say. “I’m not sure what time we’ll be getting back.”

Jamia sighs. There’s silence for a long moment and I lean against the counter, waiting. Eventually she says, “Their birthday is coming up in less than two months. I think it would be nice if they came to see me.”

I fight the urge to laugh, biting down on my lip and shaking my head instead. “Why should we be the ones to make the effort? If you want to see them, you can come to New York. We’ve set their birthday party for December third. You’re welcome to see them then.”

She repeats the date back to me, clicking her tongue a few times. After a moment, she sighs again. “That’s a Sunday. Why the hell did you set their party for a Sunday?” Before I even have the chance to answer her question, she’s sighing again, these long exaggerated exhales of breath. “There’s church on Sunday, Frank.”

This time, when the urge to laugh hits me, I don’t resist. “When the hell did you start attending church?”

I can practically hear her lips pursed when she says, “My boyfriend goes to church. I like to go with him.”

A small hum of acknowledgement escapes me just as Gerard appears in the doorway again. Leaning against the wall opposite of me, he raises one eyebrow. “That’s really nice, Jamia,” I say into the phone in the most neutral voice I can manage. “But if you can’t miss one church service to come see your own children when they’re turning eight, I think you can kindly fuck off.” Jamia starts to argue, but I cut her off again. “No, if you want to see them, you know the date. If you can’t clear your schedule for your kids’ fucking birthday, then don’t bother calling here again.”

With that, I hang up the phone and place it back on the charger. A small part of me is proud of myself for standing up to her, but another thought has me frowning-- What if I only angered her? What if she decides to go to a lawyer and request mandatory visits? Gerard is smirking when he stops in front of me. His hands come to rest on my hips, his forehead on mine.

“You were right, you know,” He tells me. “What you said to her. But I know it was hard.”

I shrug one shoulder, inching forward to wrap my arms around his waist. Burying my nose in the crook of his neck, I groan. “I fucking hate this,” I grumble. “I hate the possibility of losing them at any moment. I thought it would end once we got away, we moved to New York and got custody. But it’s a neverending fucking battle, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Gerard admits softly. One of his hands has moved to brush through my hair, a gesture that’s only kind of soothing. “But you’re a better parent than her. You always were. Hopefully that will be enough to keep them here.” I can hear it in his voice, too, the fear he has of losing the twins.

Pulling back an inch, I look up at him. I could get lost in those beautiful hazel eyes. The curve of his jaw has hardened a bit in the few  years I’ve known him and his cheekbones are more defiant. “You’re pretty,” I state.

A smile stretches across Gerard’s lips and I’m reminded of that first night we met. I didn’t know it at the time, of course, but this was a man that would change my entire life. He was supposed to be a one-night stand. I didn’t expect to fall in love. I mean, obviously I never expected to meet the guy of my dreams while I was dressed as a hot dog, and yet here we were nearly four years later. I press a soft kiss to Gerard’s lips. “I fucking love you. You know that, right?”

Gerard grins right back, nodding. “I’m pretty fucking amazing, aren’t I?” But before I have a chance to roll my eyes at his arrogance or degrade his awesomeness, he’s pulling me in for a slow kiss, his lips moving against mine in some erotic, secretive dance, and I can taste the words on his tongue. _I fucking love you, too._

**[A/N: _*Collective “awww”ing from the comment section.*_ That was cute and cheesy, wasn’t it? Yeah, it was cute and cheesy. FUCKING LOVE YOU GUYS. xoRachel.]**

 


	5. ...Five...

“You’re late.”

There’s an understatement. I don’t have time to do much other than frown in response, grabbing onto Gerard’s arm as I pass him in the school hallway. “I am _so fucking_ late,” I agree.

Gerard merely chuckles, shaking his head as he follows along. “You shouldn’t cuss,” He berates playfully in a whisper. We’re the only ones left and even our hushed voices seem to echo off the colorful walls. “Not in an elementary school.”

I make some vague noise, either of agreement or discontent I don’t know. The signs plastered on each door are my main concern as I skim for the right name. On the left near the end of the hall, I find a door covered in pink and blue construction paper. The name “Mrs. Newton” is taped across the middle.

I push the door open and step inside, allowing Gerard in behind me. Cherry and Lily color quietly in the corner of the room while a wooden desk near the front is occupied by a young woman, probably in her late twenties, though the frown lines around her lips and eyes makes her appear older. Her blonde hair is pushed back into a stiff bun at the nape of her neck and her white blouse seems almost unwrinkled save for where the sleeves have been pushed up to her elbows.

Mrs. Newton’s frown only deepens when we close the door behind us. I offer a pathetic smile and step forward. Fuck, she’s making me feel nervous. I almost feel like if I step onto the wrong tile, she’ll start doling out detentions. And then I remind myself that I am a thirty-three year old man and I should not be afraid of my kids’ third grade teacher.

“I’m really sorry we’re late,” I begin apologizing before we’re even sat down in the chairs set up in front of her desk. “They surprised the teachers with a mandatory meeting right after school and I got here as soon as I could.”

Mrs. Newton’s face doesn’t change. It’s actually quite unnerving. She folds her hands on top of the desk and nods slightly. “Punctuality is something we strive to teach our students here, Mr. Iero. I’d like to see what we teach here at school mirrored in the home, if you understand.”

I bite my lip against some smartass response and nod. “Of course. Like I said, I’m sorry--”

The words are barely out of my mouth before Mrs. Newton is plowing on, talking over top of me. “We’re here to discuss Cherry and Lily’s achievement in my class,” She states. “Let’s get to it.” Her eyes flicker down to the paperwork she has neatly lined up in front of her before she glances at Gerard and her expression falters for the first time and she looks confused. “I’m sorry, who are you again?”

“Gerard Way,” He reaches a hand forward. To my surprise, Mrs. Newton actually shakes it. “I’m the girls’...” He trails off, looking at me for help.

“Step father,” I look directly at the teacher. “He’s my partner.”

I can almost see Gerard cringe next to me and I fight the urge to do the same. We’d established near the beginning of our relationship that we had a mutual hate for the word “partner.” It made me feel like we were cowboys or cops, not actually dating. But we’d also learned that not everyone took kindly to the term “boyfriend,” seeing it far too informal, almost childish. Husband would have been inaccurate.

Mrs. Newton seems to understand regardless and just offers him an acknowledging nod. “Very well. About the girls. Cherry seems to be doing exceedingly well.” I take pride in the fact that even the teacher looks impressed. “She’s in the top percentile for her age group. She’s turned in all of her work so far this year and even taken it upon herself to finish extra credit. She shows strong leadership, always wanting to help out the teachers and other students, especially her sister.” The teacher shuffles through a few papers and then her gaze meets mine as she quirks an eyebrow. “It’s still pretty early in the year to say anything for certain, but I think she may have an opportunity to test out of her age range, if you choose to have her do so. Meaning, if she finishes this year like she’s started it, it’s very likely you could have her skip the fourth grade.”

I find myself grinning. “She’s really smart,” I agree. I glance over to the girls still sitting quietly in the corner.

“Now Lily on the other hand,” Mrs. Newton says slowly. She shuffles through another stack of papers, the frown once again returning. “She gets distracted very easily. All of her homework has been completed this year, but when it comes to classwork, we can’t get her to focus. She’s constantly looking around the room or doodling on her papers. Last week, she turned in this--” The teacher slides a sheet of paper across the desk for Gerard and I to see. It’s a math test. Lily’s name is scribbled at the top, but none of the answers are filled in. Instead, in the center of the page, is a picture of a little vampire family, complete with two dad and two little girls. They’re eating what appears to be a human being. “When we asked her what they were eating, she said it was her mom.”

Gerard laughs. I shoot him a half-hearted glare and then frown at the woman across from me, completely prepared to belt out an apology and some form of an explanation, but she’s shaking her head sadly.

“I’m concerned about the home life these girls have,” Mrs. Newton states, which, yeah I kind of saw that one coming. “Sometimes having a twin can affect one of them in a negative way, especially when the other is so successful. It makes Lily feel like she’s second best in the parents eyes.”

I shake my head instantly. “No way,” I argue, glancing at the girls. Lily looks over Cherry’s picture for a long second before scribbling away on her own again.

“I’m not saying that you’ve chosen favorites, or anything like that, Mr. Iero,” Mrs. Newton clarifies. “I just think that maybe having her and Cherry in the same class could be having a negative impact on her. She sees her sister accomplishing all of this stuff, but she’s not as smart.”

“She’s smart,” Gerard interrupts defiantly. He’s narrowed his eyes at the teacher defensively.

“I’m not saying she’s dumb, Mr. Way,” The teacher argues. “It’s just that she’s living in the shadow of her sister. She doesn’t talk in class, to anyone but Cherry--”

“We’re working on that,” Gerard admits. “She barely talks to anyone. She hasn’t since--” His words cut off and he looks over at me, frowning. I frown back. Then Mrs. Newton frowns. And we all just sit there in a big sad circle, frowning at each other for a long time.

“Since Jamia,” I finish for him.

“Jamia…?” Mrs. Newton drags out the name slowly, watching me closely.

“My ex-wife,” I explain. “Their mother.” I let out a long sigh and rub a hand across my eyes. “We had shared custody for a few years, but the girls hated living with her. She yelled at them a lot, for practically anything they said or did, and Lily learned that it was best if she just didn’t speak. Now that it’s just us, the twins and me and Gerard, she’s getting better. She talks to us, but not as much as she should.”

Mrs. Newton nods for a long time, like a bobble head, and I wonder for a second if she’s broken. But then she bites her lip and leans forward on her desk a little farther, clearly uncomfortable. “Do they have any female role model in their life at this moment in time?” She wonders.

Thinking it over, I shake my head. “They see their grandma-- my mom-- every few months. But they haven’t seen their mom in almost two years.”

There she goes nodding again. I kind of want to snap her neck, just to see if it would make the nodding stop. “Perhaps that’s what they need. A female figure. Someone they can look up to.”

“They look up to us,” I state. I glance over at Gerard. “Why do they need females to look up to? The only female they ever really had in their life fucked them up emotionally.” Mrs. Newton looks taken aback and I realize I just said fuck. Rolling my eyes, I say, “Pardon the language. But it’s true. Now excuse me, but I don’t think that putting some random woman in their lives would make it any easier. It won’t make Lily any smarter or any more social.”

Mrs Newton is shaking her head now. “I just think that perhaps having two male figures in their home life is smothering their feminism.”

I roll my eyes again. Gerard snorts next to me. “Smothering their feminism? They’re fucking seven! They can’t even spell feminism!” Mrs. Newton looks like she might have a heart attack. “Look,” Gerard chuckles, leaning forward a bit. “I’d prefer if you just came out and said it-- Do you have a problem with my relationship with Frank because we’re both guys?”

Mrs. Newton’s jaw tightens. “I think that it could have a negative effect on the twins, yes.”

Gerard chuckles again and then leans back in his chair, looking over to the girls. Both of them have already ceased drawing, watching the encounter with interest. Gerard quirks an eyebrow at them. “How about when we leave here, we go get ice cream?”

Lily’s features light up and Cherry nods enthusiastically. “Before dinner?”

“What if we eat ice cream for dinner?” Gerard asks. The girls giggle and push their chairs back, rushing over, clinging to Gerard. He looks back at me, tilting his head to one side. “Can we eat ice cream for dinner, Frankie?”

I roll my eyes, but push my own chair back and stand up. “Definitely. We’re finished here.”

When we’re all filed out into the colorful hallway once again, the girls skip ahead and Gerard slings an arm around my shoulders as we linger behind. “I’m sorry if I pissed off their teacher,” He mumbles, and he actually does sound sorry. “She just… She pissed me off. Lily’s not dumb and yeah, maybe she doesn’t talk much, but that doesn’t mean anything. She’s smart. She’s fucking talented. Shit, I swear she can draw better than me.” I chuckle, leaning into Gerard’s side, snaking my arm around his waist. “You’re not upset about what I said?”

“Why would I be?” I ask. I crane my neck back to look up at him. It’s awkward walking down the hall in this position, but we somehow manage. “You were right. The teacher’s a prissy bitch who decided to pick on Lily because she has two awesome dads.” I pull Gerard closer and rest my head on his shoulder. My voice lowers, careful not to carry down the hall to the chipper children ahead of us. “You know, we’re better off without Jamia. All of us. The twins especially. I don’t care what anyone says, they don’t need a mother figure.”

Gerard snorts. “Fuck you very much,” He says. “I will proudly take the role of Mommy. Hell, maybe I’ll wear a dress. I can borrow one of Mikey’s.”

I almost stop walking in the middle of the hall, but with Gerard’s arm around my shoulders, I manage to only stumble over my feet a bit. “Wait, Mikey has dresses?”

Gerard looks surprised that I wasn’t aware of his brother’s feminine apparel. “You don’t know the half of it,” He mutters. “You should see him in fishnets.”

“Fishnets?” My eyes widen as I try to imagine the younger Way brother in tights. “No fucking way, I have got to see that.”

Gerard simply laughs, pulling me along down the hallway after the smiling kids. And yeah, we were doing okay for ourselves. Maybe the girls didn’t have a female figure to look up to, but that was alright because they were happier than I’d ever seen them before and that was what mattered the most.

 


	6. ...Six...

“This was your idea,” I remind Gerard. I narrow my eyes slightly at him, but he doesn’t bother opening his eyes when a small smile graces his lips.

“Yeah, I know.” One of his arms is wrapped around Cherry’s shoulder, where she curls into his chest, while his other hand reaches across her sleeping form to brush a few fingers through Lily’s hair.

After Gerard’s ingenious plan to promise the girls ice cream for dinner, they overindulged themselves and unsurprisingly ended up passing out on our bed with matching stomachaches. Gerard didn’t seem to mind much and, as I glance down at the twins between us, I can’t say it bothers me either. Still, it’s only just past eight and I’m not really ready to knock out quite yet.

I try to be stealthy when I place a kiss on each girls head and slip out of bed. Gerard takes notice, his eyes finally opening a bit to gaze up at me questioningly.

Jerking a thumb in the direction of the hallway, I whisper, “Shower.”

Gerard nods, looking thoughtful, then quirks an eyebrow. “You want some company?”

His voice sounds casual, curious at most. It doesn’t sound like a blatant offer to have sex, but my lips twitch up in a smirk. I return the nod.

Inside the bathroom, I make doubly sure that I lock the door-- Gerard and I learned to be careful and quiet, but the last thing we needed was for one of the twins to wander in while shenanigans ensued in the bathtub. When I turn around, I see Gerard has discarded his shirt in the corner and is fiddling with the temperature valves. I stand back a moment, just watching. His skin is pale, speckled with tiny freckles in a few places. His black hair just barely reaches his shoulder, contrasting greatly with the fairness of his flesh. I reach out, letting my fingertips linger on his back, just feeling him beneath my touch, reveling in the fact that he’s actually real. No matter how many times I touch him, it seems to shock me every now and again how utterly perfect he is, how someone as majestic as him can be called my own.

Gerard turns his head to the side, smirking at me over his shoulder. My palm flattens across his lower back before sliding around to rest on his hip. Then I press an open mouthed kiss to his shoulder blade, another a few inches higher near the base of his neck.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I mumble, trailing the gentle kisses to the space just below his ear and then back down to his spine.

Gerard’s hand comes to rest on mine, fingers lacing together. He turns around, his lips automatically attaching to my own, though the kiss lasts no longer than a few seconds with the grin plastered on his face. His fingers tease the hem of my shirt before he pulls it up and over my head. It joins his, abandoned on the tile. And then his hand is around the back of my neck, his face so close to mine. It feels like there are so many words hanging there between us-- Silent _I love you’_ s and redundant compliments of aesthetic value-- and yet neither us us says a thing. It’s not necessary. It would feel out of place in such a serene moment, when I feel lost in the swirling hazel and brown of his mesmerizing gaze. So without saying a thing, I close the distance between us and kiss him again.

We both lose our pants somewhere between the time when his tongue touches mine and when he begins tugging me back toward the running water. We almost make it into the shower without incident, but somehow Gerard manages to slip on the slick wet shower bottom and suddenly his ass is free-falling. His grasp on me tightens by instinct, but I’m too taken by surprise to actually be useful. I hear myself let out a high pitched squeal as I plummet toward the ground. It’s like my life flashes before my eyes as we both fall in slow motion for a few long seconds, and then everything returns to it’s normal pace and I’m lying, tangled in Gerard’s limbs, on the shower floor.

There’s a long silence, nothing but the sound of the water pelting down around us. And then I glance over at Gerard, most of his body beneath my own. His hair is soaked, flattening in wet streaks across his face. His left arm is straight up while his right is twisted under my butt. I shift, realizing that nothing really hurts. “You okay?” I ask. There’s a smile forming on my lips, a gesture I can’t really contain looking at him like this.

Gerard seems to think about it for a second before nodding. “Yeah,” He laughs. He pushes his hair back with one hand and moves so he’s sitting next to me instead of under me. His laugh seems contagious in a way and I join him and we just sit there in the shower laughing about our almost-life-ending experience.

When we manage to calm ourselves, I look over at him, still grinning. “You’re so fucking accident prone,” I inform him.

Gerard gapes at me. “ _I’m_ the accident prone one?” He repeats incredulously. “Excuse me, I don’t recall being the one who chipped my tooth giving my boyfriend a blowjob.”

I remember that incident clearly, though it had happened months ago. We had the house to ourselves, the twins staying over at a friends for the night, and Gerard and I took advantage of the solitude. However, the sensual moment was ruined when I tried to blow him and ended up cracking my front tooth. I roll my eyes at the memory. “Yeah, okay. But in my defense, I didn’t break my tooth on your weiner of steel, alright? It was the button of your jeans.”

Gerard giggles, biting his lip in a futile attempt to hide his grin. “How did you explain that to your students the next day?” He wonders. “Did you have a lesson on the dangers of going down on people?”

“Well I couldn’t just tell them I cracked my tooth walking into your penis,” I retort. My mind flashes back to the incident, how the dentist apparently couldn’t fit me in to fix my chipped tooth for almost a week and I had to go to school the next day and lie to everyone I saw by telling them I chipped my tooth by walking into a door when in reality it had been oral sex gone wrong.

Gerard must be recalling the memory, too, because he chuckles again and leans into my side. One of his arms snakes around my waist. His lips attach to my shoulder, his tongue leaving swirling patterns of spit along my skin, which sounds really gross, but I can’t help but moan softly. I reach up, twisting a few fingers in his hair and pulling his mouth back to mine. The kiss isn’t forced or eager, it’s simply his mouth moving against my own. I swallow the taste of him, relish in the heat of his breath. There’s nothing more to it, no urging toward sex or even a blowjob this time, just… _kissing_.

I pull back an inch, nudging my nose against Gerard’s. I smile. “This was the first place I told you I loved you,” I recall. “Not like this exact shower, but… Do you remember?”

Gerard grins, nodding easily. “Yeah, I do.” He bites down on his lip, his eyes darting around my face, seemingly taking in the details. His fingers brush across my cheek. There’s a short moment again, when it feels like more words should be spoken, but the silence takes over. We simply stare at each other and kiss a few more times and eventually we get up and actually bathe, but no real words are exchanged between us. Somehow, it’s like the silence speaks louder anyway, the unspoken syllables echoing off of the tile and beating through my veins at a deafening volume, resonating in my very core. Still, I enjoy hearing it when Gerard places a kiss to neck and whispers, “I love you, Frank.”

**[A/N: POINTLESS FLUFF. I can’t bring myself to write drama yet, I’m enjoying too much the fluff and domestic crap. Oh well. Hope you guys are enjoying this anyway.**

**Fucking love you. xoRachel]**

 


	7. ...Seven...

Sometimes I wonder why I ever went into teaching. I hate waking up early and grading papers, making up assignments. But other days, I remember why I love it. I love opening their minds to the books we read, bringing the students into a world that someone else created and helping them analyze the many aspects of those make-believe universes. And of course there are the few students who don’t pay attention, don’t care enough to even do the reading I assign to them, and barely scrape by with their below average grades. But there are also those particular students who indulge in the wonderful world of Literature. Those are the students I like the most, even though I’m not really supposed to have favorites.

Stephenie Saporta is one of those students. She’d taken my Analytical Literature course last year, probably just to fill another credit, and she started out average. She did the bare minimum on everything and never pushed herself further, even though I could see the clear potential she had. Then, about halfway through the year, she started realizing that potential herself. She would bring in different books she found on her own and talk in great detail of the conclusions she’d drawn and her feelings toward the story. She’d ask for more recommendations and when I told her certain authors I liked, she surprised me by actually checking them out and then come back and tell me whether she liked it or not. It was incredible to see her become so enthusiastic about something and I felt immense pride at knowing I helped her to find her passion.

Today, Stephenie is sitting in her usual seat in the front of the classroom while I explain the new assignment we’re starting. Her wide eyes follow me, her expression so focused as she hangs on every word I say. Her hand darts up but she doesn’t wait for me to call her name before she asks, “What if I’ve already read Pride And Prejudice? I can’t make honest guesses on what I think will happen since I already know how it ends.”

I chew on my lip for a second, thinking, and then nod. “I suppose you can read another novel instead. See me after the last bell and we’ll work something out.”

I open my mouth, about to say more, when a familiar tune starts from behind me. In the top drawer of the desk, my cell phone is ringing. “Stephenie, could you hand these out please?” I place a stack of papers on the edge of the desk and retrieve my phone. I only leave it on in case the twins’ school calls for some reason, and even then it’s only emergencies. But now, it’s flashing with a name I’d rather not see. Repressing a groan, I face the class. “I’m sorry, I need to take this. Look over the packets. I’ll only be a second.” Then I leave the classroom and shut the door behind me.

The hallway is clear, being the middle of a period, and my voice echoes off the walls when I answer. “Jamia,” I say, letting the irritation show. “I’m in the middle of a class. This better be important.”

Jamia doesn’t show any reaction to the curtness of my words. Her voice is clipped and short, almost professional, when she says, “Frank. I wanted to let you know that Steve and I will be coming to Cherry and Lily’s party.”

“Steve?” I repeat. “Who the hell is Steve?”

“The man I’ve been seeing,” Jamia sighs. “And we will both be coming to the birthday party. I also wanted to know if we could visit before then. Next weekend, perhaps?”

I shake my head, though she can’t see me. “Next weekend won’t work. The girls will be seeing their uncle.”

I can feel Jamia’s hesitation through the static. “You don’t have a brother,” She says, her tone accusing.

“Gerard has a brother.” I roll my eyes. “And he’s coming up this weekend to see his nieces.”

Jamia scoffs. The sound of it sets me on edge, makes my jaw clench in preperation for what I know she’s about to say. I’ve heard it all before, countless times since the beginning of mine and Gerard’s relationship. “Oh, right. The jailbait. You’re still fucking him then? That must be nice, raising three children all by yourself.”

“He’s not a minor,” I state. “And he’s not a child. Now as much as I’d love to sit here and listen to you insult my boyfriend, I have a class to teach.” Without waiting for a response, I hang up. Nothing Jamia can do or say will affect me; My relationship with Gerard is legal. As far as she knows, it’s been legal the entire time. I know her distaste in the fact that Gerard is younger than me. And even though nothing she does will affect the relationship we have now, I hate the reminder of what happened when Gerard was seventeen. He was technically a minor the first time we had sex, even if I didn’t know until after. And even now, he’s only twenty-one. He’s barely old enough to legally drink and yet we’ve been in a public, committed relationship for three years. Jamia wasn’t the first person to look down on Gerard and I because of the age difference.

I’ve closed my eyes and leaned my head against the hard wall when the door to my classroom cracks open and Stephenie’s head peeks out. “Mr. Iero?” She asks, the hesitation clear in her voice. “Are you… okay?”

I force a smile and nod. “Yeah, totally.” I push it all to the back of my mind and head back into the classroom, trying to focus on the rest of the day.

 

By the end of the day, I’m ecstatic to go home. I want nothing more than to curl up on the couch with the twins and Gerard and watch Mulan for the billionth time. But when the final bell sounds in the distance, there’s a knock on the door. I sigh. I forgot completely that I was supposed to talk to Stephenie about the book assignment. She slides into a desk in the front row and starts rambling instantly. She’s in the middle of explaining why Sense and Sensibility is better than Pride and Prejudice (what that has to do with anything, I’m not sure) when my phone alerts me to yet another incoming call. This time, it’s Gerard’s name I see. I offer a smile and hold up a single finger. “Hang on just a second.”

“I’m so sorry,” Gerard says the moment the device is pressed to my ear. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” I wonder.

Gerard sighs into the phone. “My professor needs me to stay later than usual,” He explains. “I just got out of a lecture and now he wants to talk to me about next weekends expo.”

The Halloween art show. Right. Thanks to Gerard’s professor who pulled some strings, some of Gerard’s works were being exhibited in the local gallery in their annual Halloween exposition. Some of the pictures were even being auctioned and it would give Gerard the opportunity to build up more of a clientele.

“You’re staying late,” I repeat, his words registering in my head. “You can’t pick up the kids. Shit, I have to get them.”

“I’m sorry!” Gerard says again. “I swear, I’ll make it up to you.”

“No, it’s totally fine,” I tell him. “I’ve got it covered. I’ll see you tonight.”

Gerard replies, but I’m already hurrying to hang up. Then I realize Stephenie is still sitting silently in the front desk, staring on in confusion, her eyebrows lifted high. “I’m so sorry,” I tell her, shoving my keys into my pockets. “I have to go. My kids get out of school in--” I pause to check the time. “Crap. Five minutes ago. Umm… About your reading; I trust you to pick a book. Let me know by tomorrow which novel you choose and I’ll work on getting your question packet typed up as soon as I can.”

I don’t really see Stephenie as she nods dumbly and watches me disappear.

**[WOW IT'S TAKEN ME TOO DAMN LONG TO UPDATE THIS AND THIS CHAPTER WAS KIND OF BAD, BUT I'M SORRY. There will be Mikey and Halloween and making out in the next chapter though, I swear. fucking love you. xoRachel]**


	8. ...Eight...

I know when Mikey arrives because, even from the bedroom upstairs, I can hear the twins shrieking. The front door is slammed. More yelling. “Your brother is here,” I comment unnecessarily, turning to Gerard.

Gerard finishes knotting his tie and turns to face me, arms wide. “How do I look?”

He’s wearing dark jeans that hug his thighs and ass nicely, a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a red tie. “You’re fucking gorgeous,” I tell him honestly. I step forward to pull him into a slow kiss, running my hands over the back of his jeans then up his chest. “I’m glad the twins are going to Mikey’s tonight, because I am going to do dirty things to you after the art exhibit. Sexy--” Another soft kiss. “Passionate--” And another. I drag my lips down his jaw to suck on his neck. “Filthy things.”

“Holy shit, Frankie,” Gerard moans and fists his hands in the front of my pressed white button-up. “If you keep doing that thing with your tongue, I won’t even let you leave this bedroom.”

I chuckle, pulling back. “We can’t have that,” I insist. “Tonight’s your night, baby.” I straighten his tie, smiling. “You can’t miss your own Halloween exhibit.”

Gerard rolls his eyes. “Why not? I’ve already seen all the art. It’s my fucking art.”

I stand back, looking him up and down. “Your art,” I nod. “In a gallery. This is huge, Gerard.”

“Yeah.” But Gerard shrugs like it’s no big deal. “But we don’t have to go. We can skip the exhibit and I can take you out to dinner instead. It’s your birthday after all.”

“I’ve had thirty-three birthdays already,” I remind him. “This is your first exhibit. Besides, I get to spend my birthday hanging on the arm of a gorgeous man I have the honor of calling my boyfriend while strangers swoon over his art. We’re going.”

 

Downstairs, Mikey is seated in the middle of the living room floor with a twin on either side of him. Cherry is blathering about school, and then instantaneously switches topics to trick-or-treating. Mikey watches her with interest, nodding seriously. “Lily wanted to be Batman and I was gonna be the scary clown from that movie Dad won’t let us watch, but they didn’t have costumes in our size.”

“So what are you going as?” Mikey wonders.

Lily perks up and grins. “Mario!” She exclaims.

Nodding enthusiastically, Cherry shouts, “Yeah! And I’m Luigi!”

Mikey puts a hand over his mouth, unsuccessfully stifling a laugh.

“It was their idea,” I interject, leaning against the doorway. “Because your brother let them play Mario Kart.” Then I turn my attention to the girls. “Your overnight bags are packed, right?” Both nod. “And you have everything? PJs, toothbrush, spare clothes, costumes?”

“Yes Daddy,” Cherry says. “We even double checked. We have everything.”

“Awesome. And you’re going to listen to Uncle Mikey and do everything he says, right?”

“Yes Dad.”

“And you--” I point a finger in Mikey’s direction. “Don’t let them eat too much candy.”

Mikey throws his arms up. “I’m the funcle!” He exclaims. “The fun uncle! You need to let me overload them with sweets! It’s my duty to spoil them!” He scrambles to his feet so he’s standing about a half a foot taller than me. Cherry and Lily follow suit, at a much shorter stance. The girls run off to get their bags and Mikey smiles. “Seriously, I’ve got this. It’s not the first time they’ve stayed at my place, Frank. Don’t worry about them. You’re kid-free tonight. Go have fun.”

“Thanks, Mikes.” Gerard steps up to hug his brother just as the twins come running back into the room. I kiss them both and remind them again to behave, and then Mikey leads them out of the house, leaving Gerard and I alone.

I sigh in the quietness that settles over us. I turn to Gerard. “You are getting laid tonight.”

A smile twitches on his lips, amused. “Oh yeah?” He asks.

I nod, matter-of-factly. “Definitely. But not before the expo because if we don’t leave now, we’re going to be late.”

 

Two hours later, Gerard has me pressed against a dirty brick wall in the alley outside of the gallery. His mouth is at my throat, teeth scratching and tongue sliding, while he palms me through my suddenly too tight jeans. Curling my fingers in his hair, I stifle a moan into his shoulder.

“We should--” I pause to gasp when he grinds his hips forward into mine. What was I saying again? “Holy shit, we should not be doing this.” Oh, that’s right; I was trying to convince Gerard that escaping the exhibit early and making out in an alley was a bad idea. Why was I doing that?

But when a slim figure rounds the corner, I remember why. We’re in public. Well, semi-public. Back alleys are still public.

“You said you were going out for a cigarette,” The person at the end of the alley calls. It takes me a second to place a name to the voice; Gabe. Gerard’s friend from school, another art student. Some of his work was at the exhibit tonight, too. Gabe sighs, seeming unfazed by the fact that Gerard is still trying to suck a killer hickey into the side of my throat. “This doesn’t look like a cigarette.”

Gerard groans, this time an unsexy sound, and reluctantly slinks away from me. “I smoked a cigarette,” Gerard protests. “And then I got… distracted.”

Gabe barks out a laugh. “Distracted. Right. A bunch of people are still inside, and a couple of them have been asking where the artist is.”

“Tell them I got sick and had to leave early,” Gerard suggests. He fishes around in his pocket until he comes back with a crumpled pack of cigarettes, lighting up another one. “Honestly, I love seeing my art in there.” He grimaces. “But I hate being around so many people. What if I just became one of those anonymous artists? You know, the ones who drink themselves into oblivion and sell paintings out of their basement.”

“We don’t have a basement,” I point out.

“Besides,” Gabe adds. “It’s too late to be anonymous. You already put your name on all of those paintings.”

A phone rings in the quiet alleyway, echoing off the dirty walls surrounding us. Now that the boner in my pants is starting to deflate, I’m realizing that an alley was probably the least sexy choice for a quickie. A bathroom stall would have been more romantic. Gabe swats at a fly buzzing by his head while he tugs the phone free from his jeans. He frowns and types back a response before shrugging at Gerard. “If you want to fake sick and leave early, you’re on your own. That was my sister, she needs me to go pick her up. It was nice to meet you, Frank. I’ll see you around.”

When Gabe has disappeared out of the alley, Gerard leans back against the wall and smiles. He’s mostly shadows in the dark, but the lights coming from the gallery illuminate him enough to see the way he watches me with half-lidded eyes. “Thank you for being here tonight,” He says.

I step forward, twisting his fingers with mine. “This is important to you. It’s important to me, too. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

He captures my lips in a slow kiss. “It’s still your birthday, though. And I have a certain surprise for you.”

“Oh?” I ask. “And what would that be?”

He opens his arms widely, a grand gesture to himself. “Me. Any way you want me.”

I press closer again, settling my chest flush against his. “I want you all the ways you’ll let me have you.”

Gerard grins. “Well shit, Frankie. We only have one night without the kids. We should get started right away.”

He grabs my hand and pulls me out of the alley, past the gallery without even going back inside to inform anyone of our departure.

That night, I take my time watching Gerard fall apart beneath me. He’d offered to take care of me, to let me just relax against the pillows while he did all the work. But it was funner this way, feeling him writhe and shiver, hearing him beg and moan. It reminded me of our first night together, but it was so different. This wasn’t just a messy fuck or a one night stand. This was making love, and it felt so much better.

When I collapse into the sheets next to him, feeling exhausted and content, Gerard offers me a soft smile. “Happy birthday, Frankie.”

I kiss him, curling up against his side and closing my eyes. “Happy anniversary, Gerard.” And then I promptly fall asleep.

 


	9. ...Nine...

...Nine…

“I don’t like this,” Gerard grumbles, and his voice sounds ominous next me. He’s got his arms folded petulantly, a frown on his lips. He sinks down in the red booth, almost disappearing beneath the table.

“Neither do I,” I admit. I take a long sip of my Coke, offer Gerard a french fry, and then sigh. “Really. You think I enjoy seeing my ex-wife and her new boyfriend?”

Gerard looks amused for a split second. “You jealous, Frankie?”

Rolling my eyes, I snort. “I’m not justifying that with an answer. The point is; We have to be here. You know that. If we deny Jamia the right to visit, she could--”

“--she could file for custody again, or demand we move back to Jersey,” Gerard flaps his hand impatiently, having been through this a hundred times already. “Yeah, I know. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

Across the restaurant, Cherry and Lily climb through an obstacle course of styrofoam pillars and plastic tubes. A few other kids are playing around them, but the twins stick close together in their own solitary game. Near the stacks of discarded shoes and jackets, stands Jamia and  _ Steve _ . I didn’t catch his last name when they arrived twenty minutes after the arranged meeting time, but he grinned widely and offered a handshake. His hands were clammy and he squeezed too hard, like he was asserting his dominance or something.

Jamia was thinner than I remembered her. Sickly thin. I cast a silent glance at Gerard, who shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe she’s sick,” He’d suggested when we were alone.

I snorted in response. “Or maybe she’s fucked up and higher than a kite.” But she looked okay; No thick bags under her eyes, no yellowed teeth, no nervous twitching.

By the time Jamia and Steve had arrived, the twins were done eating and were scurrying off to the play area. Which left the adults alone.

“Garrett, right?” Steve bellowed. His voice echoed obnoxiously, too loud in the quiet restaurant. He didn’t seem to notice the dirty looks immediately thrown our direction, from both customers and employees alike. “Yeah, Jamia mentioned you.”

“Gerard,” He’d replied reluctantly. “It’s Gerard.”

Steve decided not to hear him. He just laughed. “You’re smaller than I imagined. Fuckin’ twink. Hey, how’s that work?”

I frowned. “I’m sorry, are you asking what I think you’re asking?”

Steve leaned over the table, lowering his voice like he was telling a secret. “Well you’re kinda a twink too, right?”

“Yep,” Gerard replied dryly, looking bored. “We’re both bottoms. We can’t actually have sex; it would rip a hole in the space-time continuum. Like that whole cat-and-buttered-bread conspiracy? Imminent destruction. The whole fucking world would probably implode if Frank’s penis went anywhere near my asshole.”

Steve’s expression faltered, and I bite back a smile.

Jamia immediately cleared her throat, changing topics by saying, “So Gerard, how is school? You’re starting high school soon, right?”

Gerard replied with a tight-lipped smile. “Oh, you know, school is school. How are Jimmy and his wife?”

At the mention of Jamia’s former boss, the one she’d been caught screwing, I can’t contain the snort of laughter. Jamia frowned. “I’d like to see the kids now.”

I gestured toward the play area. “Go ahead. See if you can recognize them. I’ll give you a hint; They’re the only identical twins in there.”

Jamia had stood up and stomped off in the right direction, practically dragging Steve with her. Which left Gerard and I alone at the table, watching in silent judgement as Jamia tried and failed to interact with our kids.

Ten minutes later, Jamia is sliding back into the booth with an even deeper frown than before. “I can’t get them to talk to me,” She says. Like I can magically solve her problems. “Frank, do something.”

I shrug. “What am I supposed to do? They’re playing. It’s a McDonald’s Play Place, Jamia. What did you expect?”

“I expect them to sit down and talk to me,” Jamia insists. “I haven’t seen them in two years!”

“Who’s fault is that again?” Gerard wonders aloud. “They’ll get tired in an hour or so and then maybe they’ll want to talk.”

“I don’t have an hour or so,” Jamia shakes her head. “Steve and I have to get back to New Jersey soon.”

I exchange a look with Gerard before sliding out of the booth. “I’ll get ice cream, you get the twins.”

As I head in the direction of register, Gerard goes to collect the girls. By the time I get back to the table, both Cherry and Lily are bouncing excitedly in the booth, eagerly awaiting their ice cream. I hand the cones over and sit down.

The conversation is stunted and awkward, mostly one-sided with only half-answers from the kids. Jamia’s not pleased to find that Cherry has taken to Gerard, like he’s a second father. It’s horrible, in all honestly, but the kids patiently eat their ice cream and reply politely.

Until Jamia snaps.

I could see her the entire time, watching in disgust as Lily messily ate her ice cream. Gerard patiently handed her napkins when it got smeared on her face. But when she gets to the cone, she licks down as far as she can get before starting to shovel it out with her fingers to eat the rest. Having watched her eat ice cream a million times before, I expected this. She had this weird thing about eating the cones. She always left the cone untouched, uneaten, when the ice cream was gone.

But Jamia watches in horror as Lily licked the ice cream off her fingers and went back for more. “Lily, stop that!” She snaps. “That’s disgusting!”

But Lily was entranced in her dessert, she wasn’t listening, and that was when Steve stepped in.

He reaches a hand across the table, grabbing onto Lily’s wrist, causing her to drop the cone to the table. She looks up, eyes wide and starting to tear.

Before I can react, Gerard grabs Steve’s middle finger and yanks back. It cracks audibly and Steve buckles, whimpering. Gerard leans into the table, a fire in his gaze, when he says, “You touch my daughter again, and I will rip your fucking arm off. Got it?” He pulls the finger again until Steve is nodding fervently.

“Yeah, got it, got it!” His voice rises in pitch with the pain, and Gerard let’s go.

“I think we’re done here,” I say. I pull Lily out of the seat, wiping off some ice cream that had somehow managed to get smeared in her eyebrow. Cherry abandons her mostly eaten cone on the table. No one argues when I lead the kids outside.

While the kids buckle themselves into the backseat, Gerard fidgets next to the car. He doesn’t meet my gaze. “I’m sorry,” He says. “I overreacted, didn’t I? And i overstepped. But--”

I don’t let him finish before I pull him against me and kiss him hard. “No,” I say when I break the kiss. I duck to meet his eyes. “No, you have nothing to apologize for.”

“I shouldn’t have threatened him,” Gerard disagrees.

I knot my hand in the back of his hair, bringing our foreheads together. “You had every right to threaten him. I was about to do the same thing. You just beat me to it.”

Gerard contemplates this, frowning. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” I laugh. “Do you want me to march back in there and break another finger just to prove it?”

“Nah,” Gerard laces his fingers through my own. “I think I believe you.”

 

I expect a call from my lawyer after that incident. I tense up every time the phone rings, expecting the voice on the other end to tell me Jamia has filed a report, Jamia wants custody, Jamia is taking the kids. No such call comes.

When, a week later, the call does come, it’s not what I expected. Jamia sounds just as bored as usual and she doesn’t mention Steve or his broken fingers at all. Instead, in her usual clipped tone, she asks, “Do the girls have the movie Finding Dory yet? It’s a new Disney movie about the fish who--”

“I know what Finding Dory is,” I interrupt.

“Well do they have it?” Jamia repeats. “Their birthday is still coming up and I don’t know what to get them.”

After a pause, I ask, “You’re still planning on coming to their birthday party?”

“Of course I am,” She snaps. “I’m their mother.”

“And your boyfriend?” I ask. “Is he planning on attending?”

Now Jamia pauses. “No,” She finally admits. “Steve and I have decided it’s best if I come alone. He’ll be staying in New Jersey. There’s church on Sunday, you know?”

I nod, well aware that she can’t see me. “Good. Because Gerard was serious about ripping his arm off.”

I can hear Jamia sigh. “It was a misunderstanding, Frank. Steve didn’t mean any harm--”

“I don’t want your excuses,” I interrupt. “And I don’t want him near the girls. Is that clear?”

“Crystal,” Jamia says, though it sounds reluctant. “Now about the movie?”

If it were up to me, Jamia wouldn’t be coming around the girls either. Still, in the back of my mind, I know that I need to play nice with her. I can’t cut her off completely because who knows what crazy things she’d do then. As far as Jamia knows, Gerard and I have been together since he was eighteen; a safe, consensual, almost true age. But if she were angry enough, she could throw around wild accusations about him and that wouldn’t end well for any of us. 

So in the end, I say, “No. They don’t have that movie yet.”

When she hangs up, I lean against the counter and run the conversation through my head again. And again. Until Gerard gets home. He gives me a kiss and places his art supplies on the kitchen table, then frowns. “You’re really quiet. You okay?”

“Fine,” I lie, hiding it with a fake smile. I put the phone back and busy myself with finding food for dinner. In all honesty, I’m terrified of what could happen, the worst case scenarios running through my head, all the ways Jamia could try and get the kids back.

But when Gerard pins me against the counter and licks into my mouth, I feel myself relax. “Mrs. Deveraux won’t be dropping the girls off for another hour or so,” He mumbles casually.

“Hmm?” I reply intelligently.

Gerard groans in response, a sound of agreement. “We could make dinner like responsible adults,” He says, barely moving his mouth from mine to speak. “Or we can make out on the couch like two horny teenagers.”

I glance back at the stove, the lone box of mac and cheese, considering it. “We can order out tonight,” I decide, and drag Gerard toward the couch with me. With help from his long fingers and rough kisses, I spend the next hour thoughtless and carefree.


	10. ...ten...

I wake up to the distinct sensation of a finger running down the length of my spine. At first, it’s just the pressure. A simple feeling; There’s someone touching my back. And then when I become coherent enough, it starts to tickle. I shiver and wiggle away a bit, making a weak noise of protest.

A soft chuckle sounds in reply and the finger on my back flattens into a palm on my shoulder blade. “Frank,” Gerard says. His nails press into my flesh a little, dragging down to the area just above my boxers and no doubt leaving faint red marks in their wake. “Frankie, you gotta wake up.”

I groan, burying my face in the pillow. Lily had spent most of last night sneezing, coughing, and grumbling about her stuffy nose. After many failed attempts at getting her back to sleep, I settled in on the couch with her wrapped in a blanket while she watched cartoons. We were still there when Gerard woke up in the morning, getting Cherry off to school and then heading to class.

I try to recall anything after that. I remember putting Lily down in her bed after her latest dose of medicine and then falling onto the couch, exhausted. Apparently I fell asleep for a few hours. “Lily kept me up all night,” I say, my voice muffled by the pillow. “I’m sleeping. Go ‘way.”

“Gabe’s here,” Gerard says and scratches my back again. “We’re working on the new exhibit, remember? And his sister came with him so you should probably put pants on before you scare the poor girl.”

Groaning again, I shake my head. “Don’t wanna move. Put pants on me.”

Gerard laughs. “Normally you’re asking me to take them  _ off  _ of you. This is a change.”

I grin into the pillow. “You can take them off when Gabe is gone.”

I can imagine the gleam in his eye and the smile in his voice when he says, “I am going to take you up on that. But for now, I think you should be decent.”

“You asshole,” I grumble, but push myself up anyway. “I am always decent.” Standing, I wrap a hand around the back of Gerard’s neck to pull him closer, kissing him.

Our lips are barely connected for even two seconds when I hear a shrill voice. “ _ Mr. Iero? _ ”

I pull away instantly, my eyes finding none other than Stephenie Saporta. She’s standing in the doorway leading to the kitchen, a book clutched tightly to her chest, her eyes wide and mouth hanging open. With the lack of sleep weighing heavy now, my mind seems to be lagging because I can only stare for a long second and then turn to Gerard. “What?”

Gerard looks just as confused as I feel. He points unnecessarily to Stephenie. “Gabe’s sister, Steph. You know her?” And then he seems to understand. “She’s one of your students.”

I nod. I feel very exposed suddenly when Gabe appears beside his supposed sister, nodding at me. “Hi, Frank.”

I lift my hand in a small wave. “Gabe. Stephenie.” Then I flap a hand in the direction of the stairs. “Yeah, I’m gonna go put pants on.”

After finding a pair of jeans and a tshirt, I peek into the twins’ room, seeing Lily still sleeping soundly, and then head back downstairs.

In the kitchen, Gerard and Gabe have already spread their shit out on half of the table. Next to Gabe, with Scarlet Letter open in her hands, is Stephenie. I slide into the seat next to Gerard, coincidentally across from Stephenie. There’s an ashtray near Gerard’s elbow with a lit cigarette burning away, ashes budding at the tip. I nudge him. “Yours?”

He glances over, nods. So I take the cigarette and press it to my lips, inhaling deeply once, and then set it back. Gerard picks it up a second later and finishes it before grinding into the ashtray. The silence feels awkward, so I’m glad when Gabe speaks up. He’s still doing something with the papers spread out, but asks, “So you’re Mr. Iero? I think I remember Gerard mentioned you were a teacher.”

I nod easily and pick absently at a speck on the table. “Yeah, I taught high school back in Jersey, and then a college course for a year before we moved here.”

“And then you went back to high school?” Gabe wonders and then smirks. “I mean, you must be good at it. Steph never shuts up about you.”

Stephenie’s face goes bright red, but her eyes don’t leave the book.

An awkward silence falls over the table. My fingers twitch anxiously, so I grab the ashtray and Gerard’s crumpled pack of cigarettes, moving to the counter across the kitchen. I light one up and set about filling the coffee pot, mostly for something to do. I can’t stand sitting still. When the coffee's done, I pull a few mugs out of the cabinet. I fill two, setting one by Gerard’s elbow while I sip at the other.

Suddenly, without even looking away from her book, Stephenie says, “I didn’t know you were gay.”

I spit some coffee onto the table, narrowly missing Gerard’s papers. Everything stops. Gerard stops what he was saying to Gabe mid-sentence and Gabe looks like he’s trying not to laugh. I can only blink at the girl in front of me. Her face reddens, eyes wide, like she hadn’t meant to say that out loud. She looks like she’s trying to hide behind her book. “I’m sorry,” She stutters. “That is none of my business.”

“Umm…” I look over at Gerard, silently begging him to help me out here. He simply bites down on a smile and continues what he was telling Gabe.

I look back to Stephenie. “I’m sorry,” she sighs, and this time she closes her book to meet my eyes. “I didn’t mean to blurt that out. But I just… I didn’t know. I was surprised. This is awkward.”

“You came into the room while I was sleeping in my boxers,” I say. “It’s awkward for me, too.”

Stephenie laughs softly and some of the tension leaves the room.

“Look,” I lean forward, setting my mug down on the table. “I’m your teacher, but we’re not in school right now. Right now you’re a guest, not my student.”

“Does that mean I can call you Frank?”

That startles a laugh out of me. “Sure, just not in school.”

“Awesome,” Stephenie smiles and leans back in her chair. “Can I have some coffee, Frank?” Then she sits up straighter and grimaces. “No, I can’t call you Frank. It’s weird.”

“Agreed,” I tell her. I stand up to go fill another mug with coffee, setting it down in front of Stephenie to get some milk for her. When I sit back down, Stephenie carefully pours the milk into her coffee, tasting it once before adding more. She looks up, taking another sip, and asks, “So… since I’m a guest, can I ask a question?”

I hesitate, but eventually nod. “Sure.”

She glances over at Gerard. “How long have you been together?”

I can see where her mind has gone and I smile sadly. “You’re asking because he’s younger than me.”

Stephenie blushes, looking down at her drink with a shrug.

I sigh. “Three years.”

“And you have kids?” Stephenie asks. “Gabe mentioned that Gerard has kids.”

“Yeah,” I smile. “Two. From my previous marriage.”

Stephenie’s eyes widen. “You were married?”

Now it’s my turn to grimace.

Stephenie seems to understand that I don’t want to elaborate because she changes the subject, unknowingly to a much worse topic. “How did you and Gerard meet?”

I look over at Gerard, absorbed in his work with Gabe and oblivious to our conversation. “Uhh…” I fumble for some sort of acceptable response. The half truth is still the truth, right? “Halloween,” I say vaguely. “Trick-or-treating.”

It’s Lily that comes to my rescue then as she wanders into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes furiously with one little fist. Her Anna doll hangs loosely from the other hand. She comes to stand directly in front of me, then yawns. Without a word, she scrambles up to sit on my lap. Her doll jabs into my stomach once, but then settles on the table. She lays her head back on my chest.

I reach around to press a hand to her forehead. It’s still warm, but not as hot as it was before. Glancing at the time, I see she’s almost due for more medicine.

“Hey Lil,” Gerard says, turning to brush his fingers through her hair. “How you feeling?”

“Yucky,” She grumbles. “Daddy, can I have a popsicle?”

“You haven’t eaten any food today,” I tell her. “Do you think you can eat some soup if Gee fixes you some?”

Lily contemplates this for awhile, and then abruptly asks, “Is Cherry home yet?”

“Not yet. Mrs. Deveraux should be bringing her home soon though. Do you want to wait until she gets home to eat some soup?”

Lily nods. Then she sits up, nudges Gerard and whispers, “Gee.  _ Gee _ .” Nudges again.

Gerard looks over at her. “Hmm?”

Lily points a finger across the table.

Gerard quirks an eyebrow, saying nothing.

Lily points her finger harder in the same direction.

Gerard closes his eyes, shakes his head furiously. “Nope. Sorry, Lil. I can’t see, and I can’t hear your finger pointing. Words? English? Did you need something?”

Lily laughs, but doesn’t stop pointing. “Can I color, Gee?”

Gerard opens his eyes, grins, and hands over the pack of colored pencils she has been silently demanding, along with a few sheets of paper. She’s half done with a drawing of what looks like a massacre of cereal characters when the front door opens and then slams shut a second later. Cherry appears in the kitchen not even a minute after with a frown on her face, arms crossed angrily against her chest.

“Hey, Cherry,” I say tentatively. “Did you have fun with Leslie and Jacob?”

“Jacob is a dick,” Cherry states.

Gerard fails to hide his laughter beside me.

“We don’t talk like that,” I chastise her, though it’s mostly half-hearted because I know she probably learned that word from me. “But… why is he dick?”

Cherry sighs heavily. “He said that Gee isn’t allowed to be our dad. Because we already have one.”

“Jacob is a homophobic little shithead,” Gerard mutters.

I smack his arm. “Swear jar.”

Gerard rolls his eyes. “It’s true. The kid seems like a--”

“Very unkind child,” I interrupt. “But you’re not allowed to call him a shithead because he’s nine and you’re twenty-one. Who is the adult in this situation?”

Gerard turns to narrow his eyes at Cherry. “You bit him, didn’t you?”

Cherry fidgets, looking down at her shoes. She shrugs one shoulder. “Maybe.”

I groan. “Cherry, what have we talked about? You’re not supposed to bite people.”

“But he was being mean!” Cherry throws her arms up dramatically. “And so was Mrs. D! Dad, she called you a pefo… Fedop….” Cherry stutters over her words for a second and then slowly and clearly says, “Ped-o-phile.”

My heart sinks. “She called me what?”

“That’s why Jacob and Leslie aren’t allowed to play at our house,” Cherry continues. “Because Leslie told me that that word means you’re a bad person and Mrs. D doesn’t trust you to watch them.”

Gerard has the phone in his hand before I can even think. “What are you doing?” I ask dumbly when he starts angrily pushing numbers.

“I’m calling that bitch and telling her she can shove her egotistic attitude where the sun don’t shine.”

I reach out and grab the phone, ending the call before it can connect. “No,” I tell him. “She can call me whatever she wants, Gee. It’s not true. Cherry, Lily, you’re not allowed over to the Deveraux’s house anymore. I don’t want you speaking with Jacob or Leslie at school. If Mrs. Deveraux even says hi to you, you tell me.”

“You’re not planning on dealing with this?” Gerard asks me, bewildered. “Why the hell not? Frank, she can’t just get away with making accusations like that when it’s fucking bullshit. You’d never hurt one of those girls.”

I stand up, leaving Lily to claim my seat across from Stephenie. “Living room, please,” I say and don’t wait to make sure Gerard is following me before storming into the other room. When I spin around, Gerard is behind me. “She’s not talking about the twins,” I snarl, fighting to keep my voice quiet. My jaw clenches. “Gerard, she’s talking about you. She’s talking about the fact that you’re fourteen fucking years younger than me.”

“I’m an adult,” Gerard snaps. “She can dislike our relationship as much as she damn well pleases, but the second she starts insinuating shit like that, she’s gone too far. At the very least, we should take it up with the school board.”

“What are they going to do?” I snort. “Kick her off the bake-sale committee?”

“She’s part of the PTO,” Gerard says. “The least they can do is kick her off that.”

“And what if they fucking agree with her?” I demand. “What if they take one look at us and agree that she’s right? Look at me, Gerard. I’m not exactly dad of the year material as it is. Add in my relationship with a twenty-one year old man and that’s all they need to see to make their decisions.”

“Frankie--” Gerard starts, but I shake my head.

“No. I’ll call Deveraux, tell her to stay the hell away from our kids, and then we’ll drop it.”

“Why?” Gerard wonders. “Frank, it’s bullshit and you know it. How can you just let it go?”

“Because she’s not fucking wrong about you, Gee,” I whisper angrily. “Think about it. If they start asking questions, looking into allegations like that, what if they find you? They can’t prove anything happened when you were seventeen, but they don’t have to look too far to discover that I was your  _ teacher _ . That’s all they fucking need to know and they will fire me. All it takes is an accusation, Gerard. Nobody will hire a teacher who is in a relationship with one of their past students. If they even think we were fucking around before you were eighteen, they will take our kids away. The twins will go right back to Jamia, and I’m not going to take that chance.” I can feel my face is red when I finally allow myself to calm down, taking a slow breath.

Gerard doesn’t say anything, but he steps forward and I’m wrapped in the familiar, warm embrace. He buries his nose in my hair. “I’m sorry,” He says. “We’ll let it go, okay?”

I nod and twist my hands in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.

When we return to the kitchen, the silence is deafening. Gerard and I take our seats again and Lily climbs onto my lap while Cherry scrambles to sit on Gerard’s. She holds Lily’s hand, asks how her sister is feeling. Lily shows her the picture she’d been coloring. Gabe starts talking about the exhibit and Cherry introduces herself to Stephenie, asks about the book she’s reading. Stephenie smiles and answers Cherry’s inquiries. The awkwardness sort of fades after that, but it doesn’t stop the roaring in my ears, the throb in my head, or the rapid pounding of my heart in my chest. None of it seems to stop.

 


	11. ...eleven...

It becomes a regular occurrence to have Stephenie at the house. She comes with Gabe most days when he and Gerard have to work on their exhibit. It’s awkward at first, but we settle into it fairly easily after a while.

Sometimes Steph will sit quietly at the kitchen table, working on homework. Other times she’ll curl up on an end of the couch to read. The twins love her. They’re not used to having a girl in their lives that will play with them. They drag Stephenie into games, and she doesn’t complain when they ask her to play with their dolls or help with their homework.

After a few weeks, Stephenie and Gabe are over almost every night.

One night, Stephenie and I are alone in the living room when the doorbell rings. I’m grading essays at the coffee table while Stephenie sits nearby with a book cradled in her lap. Cherry and Lily had gone upstairs to get ready for bed while Gabe and Gerard made an emergency trip to Walmart when they ran out of duct tape. In the rare silence of the house, the only sound is the occasional rustling of paper.

I look up when the doorbell rings, rubbing at my eyes. I can feel the start of a headache. How long have I been staring at that scrawled writing?

I push myself up and pull open the front door, frowning when I see who is waiting on the doorstep.

“Mrs. Deveraux,” I say dryly. “What can I do for you?”

She folds her arms aggressively and scowls. “You can explain why your daughter hit my little Jacob,” Mrs. D snaps. “This afternoon, Jacob came home from school with a black eye. He told me Cherry punched him.”

This is news to me. Cherry hadn’t mentioned anything of the sort.

I frown some more. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Your daughter,” she says slowly, as if talking to a child. “Punched my child.”

“How do you know Jacob isn’t lying?”

Mrs. D snorts. “I believe my son.”

“Well, I’ll be sure to talk to Cherry about it. Now, if that’s all--” I go to close to the door, but Mrs. D’s hand flies out to stop it.

“You better punish that daughter of yours,” she yells, “before I take it up with the school board! This is bullying, Mr. Iero!”

I laugh. “If Cherry punched your son, I’m sure she had a damn good reason. I told my kids to stay away from Leslie and Jacob, so if there was a fight I can almost guarantee Jacob is the one who started it.”

“Jacob did nothing wrong,” Mrs. Deveraux says, affronted by my accusation. “He is a good boy. Not like those twins of yours.”

Oh hell no. Just as I’m about to start screaming, Stephenie appears behind me. “Mr. Iero?” she asks tentatively. “Is everything okay?”

A smile spreads across Mrs. D’s face as she looks between the two of us. “What is this?” She wonders. “Was Gerard getting too old for your liking? You had to find someone younger?”

“That’s enough,” I snap. “You need to fucking leave or I’m calling the cops. Now.”

Mrs. Deveraux pulls her hand away, takes a step back, but the smile is still in place when I slam the door in her face.

I turn and lean against the wall, closing my eyes and sighing. The headache is worse now, a sharp thumping instead of just a dull pain. It feels like daggers in my brain.

It’s quiet for a long time. From upstairs I can hear Cherry and Lily laughing. Eventually, Stephenie speaks up. “She’s wrong,” she says softly. “You know she is, and so do I. Even if she tells someone she saw me here, I can tell them nothing happened. I was reading in your living room. That’s not a crime.”

I can’t bring myself to respond. There’s so much that she doesn’t know, that she would never understand.

But then Stephenie says, “Is this because Gerard was your student?”

My eyes fly open, meeting hers. Stephenie’s gaze is soft, curious, but not threatening. It’s almost sympathetic.Panic swells in me and I can’t hold back the quiet sob that escapes. It feels like my entire world is crashing down around me. Letting my legs give out, I slide down the wall. I bury my face in my hands. I could try to deny it, but it’s no use. I can see it in her eyes; I know Stephenie has already discovered the truth for herself. I can’t bring myself to look at her when I ask, “How did you find out?”

Stephenie leans against the wall next to me, sliding down so she sits a few feet away, knees pulled to her chest. “School records,” She says, like it’s that simple. “Online yearbooks. You said you taught high school back in New Jersey. It’s the same year Gerard graduated.”

A startled laugh escapes me. It really is that easy to find. And if Stephenie could find it, anyone could.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Stephenie confides. “I swear. I won’t tell a soul. Not even Gabe.”

I take a few breaths, wiping angrily at my eyes to erase any evidence of the tears. “I didn’t know,” I tell her. I want to believe her, believe that she won’t tell anyone, but something in me needs to fight, needs to defend myself. “Not at first. I didn’t know he was my student.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” she repeats. “You’re a good teacher. A good person. I know you and Gerard love each other. I swear, your secret is safe with me.”

And I believe her. I really do; She won’t tell anyone. But in the end, that belief just isn’t enough.

When Gabe and Stephenie leave that night, after the twins are tucked into bed, I stand in the kitchen clearing away dishes with Gerard. “You’ve been really quiet,” He notices. “Are you okay?”

I think about lying, telling him I’m fine, but I shake my head. “No. I’m not okay. I can’t do this, Gee.”

“Can’t do what, Frankie?” Gerard watches me, concerned. “I can finish cleaning up, if you want.”

“That’s not what I mean,” I say. My voice is harsher than I intend it to be, my breathing uneven. I lean against the kitchen table, glaring at the wooden surface. My hands are shaking a little. “I mean us, Gerard. I don’t think I can do it.”

Everything seems paused for a long time. Neither of us move. Gerard looks like he’s waiting for me to say more, but I can’t form the words.

"What are you saying, Frank?" Gerard looks at me with a pained expression. His brow is furrowed and I want nothing more than to reach out and smooth the crease between his eyes, make the frown disappear and pull him closer to me.

But I swallow down those instincts and settle with a noncommittal shrug. "I'm just saying that I think we need space."

Gerard takes a step back, then another, moving so the kitchen table is between us. "Is that enough space? If not, I can go to the living room."

I shake my head slowly. "No, Gerard," I sigh. "That's... not really what I mean."

Gerard falls silent, no words exchanged between us for a long time before the frown returns. He blinks a few times and then says, "Oh... Shit."

And there it is, the entirety of our relationship summed up perfectly in the two simple words; Oh shit.

“Are you breaking up with me?” Gerard’s lip trembles. I look down, not wanting to see the pain in his eyes.

“No,” I tell him. “I just… I need a break.”

“That sounds like breaking up,” He says. “Frankie, did something happen?” He takes a step toward me, arm outstretched, but I pull back before he can reach me. “Frank, talk to me. Please.”

“I just need to think,” I say. “I need space and time.”

I expect him to argue more, but when I look up he’s looking down. He nods slowly. “Yeah, okay. If that’s what you want.” Then he turns on his heel and disappears.

When he leaves the room, it’s instinct to follow. Upstairs in our bedroom, he tosses some clothes into a bag. It all feels too real suddenly, he’s really leaving, and it makes my stomach hurt. “Where are you going?” I ask dumbly.

Gerard doesn’t look at me. “You need space,” he says. “I can give that to you.”

“But… where?”

Gerard shrugs. “I can find a motel for now.”

“I love you.”

Gerard looks up finally, his eyes wet. “Then why are we doing this? Frank, why can’t you talk to me?”

“Because I…” I search for words, but find none. I can’t explain it all. It’s too much. My fear of anyone finding out that Gerard was my student, the fact that I could lose him, my job, my kids, my entire life. I thought we were done hiding when he graduated high school, yet here we are.

But Gerard won’t understand that because the same isn’t at stake for him. If people discover that I was his teacher, they won’t look at him the same way they’ll see me. I’ll be labeled a pedophile, some sick fuck, and Gerard will just be some kid who had a fling with his teacher, who was seduced and didn’t know any better.

Gerard seems to take my silence as answer enough because he zips up his bag and throws the strap over his shoulder. He moves to leave, but stops next to me. He can’t meet my gaze, instead staring straight ahead when he says, “Tell the twins I’ve got school stuff to do. That I’ll be gone for a little while, but I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Then he brushes past me, out of the room. I can hear the door shut downstairs and then silence. In that silence, I sit down on the floor and cry.


End file.
